


Everyone is an Idiot (Except For Him)

by quiet__tiger



Category: Becker (TV), House M.D., House/Becker crossover
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, One Night Stands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-17
Updated: 2015-05-17
Packaged: 2018-03-30 22:14:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3953725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quiet__tiger/pseuds/quiet__tiger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>House makes a new friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everyone is an Idiot (Except For Him)

**Author's Note:**

> This smacked me in the face Tuesday morning as I watched Becker. Not sure how I missed it until now.
> 
> Originally posted to Livejournal April 26, 2007.

  
~*~

House looked over the program one more time, as if memorizing the order of the speakers would make the evening go faster. He’d already been there for two hours, and the food just wasn’t good enough to warrant keeping him there for anywhere near that length of time. The only good thing about the night was that the conference was in Princeton, so he didn’t have to travel, and his staff was separated by specialty, so he didn’t have to listen to them chat nonsense all night.

Finally there was a break to give the last group of presenters time to calm their nerves or whatever, and he took the opportunity to get up to use the bathroom.

Not because he had to go, but because getting up and moving would help keep him from smacking one of the previous speakers with his cane. Too many ahs and ums and uhs and one man who kept using a word that sounded like a real word but really wasn’t and one doctor from Massachusetts who didn’t use the letter ‘r’ in anything. He’d heard better speeches in teen comedies.

As he washed his hands in the sink, a tall, thin man in a tweed jacket pushed through the doors muttering to himself. House caught something about falsifying data as the man angrily unzipped his fly and started to pee at the urinal next to the stalls. Curious, House took the next urinal over and went himself.

“Didn’t you already go? You were just washing your hands.”

The man was forward. House liked that. “I like to wash before and after. We’re in New Jersey, after all. Don’t want to catch anything.”

“Good point. America’s arm pit and everything.”

“Where are you from?”

“New York. You?”

“Right here. Princeton Plainsboro.”

They both finished and went to the sinks. The stranger used copious amounts of soap, and House went through the motions as he watched the stranger’s lithe hands work it into a lather and rinse.

Suddenly the stranger turned to him. “You’re Greg House, aren’t you?”

“My friends call me House. But that’s a good guess.”

“I saw you speak last year. It was short, to the point. I liked it.”

“Thanks. You have a name, or should I just call you Doctor?” Though ‘Doctor’ worked sometimes...

“John Becker. Private practice.”

They shook hands, and House evaluated the man in front of him. About his age, his build, graying hair. And similar cynical eyes.

Perhaps the night wouldn’t be a complete disaster.

“How eager are you to see the rest of the speakers?”

“About as eager as I am to be operated on by the homeless guy who tries to bum cigarettes off of me every morning.”

“You want to get out of here?”

John looked relieved. “Drinks are on me.”

~*~

Oh yes, getting drunk with John was much better than listening to another group of doctors ramble on and on about a topic that only related to his work tangentially. He and John had a lot in common, and only got into one small disagreement about Harvard versus Hopkins. John was interesting and cynical and funny and viewed people the same way he did.

As sheep.

Their working situations were vastly different, however. House had Cuddy and Wilson, and Chase and Cameron and Foreman, while John had someone named Margaret who sounded nice and helpful, and some twit named Linda whom he should really just fire but couldn’t bring himself to do it.

After a while, House stopped really listening to what John was saying, and focused on the way he was saying it. There was such venom in the words, the tone was so jaded and condescending, and House found it so amusing he just couldn’t get enough of it.

It was like listening to himself, except the words were spoken by someone else.

By the end of the evening, the conclusion seemed to be that not only did everyone lie, half the time people were too stupid to realize they were lying. And when they weren’t lying, they were being ignorant or foolish.

Everyone knew how much House got off on listening to himself.

This time was no exception. Partway through some rant about cab drivers, he asked John, “You want to come back to my place for a nightcap?”

John must have read something in his eyes, because he said, “I’m not gay.” The interested look on his face completely undermined the words. Everyone lied, at least a little bit.

”Neither am I.” Even House.

“So long as that’s out of the way, sure.”

~*~

They almost didn’t make it through his door before John had his head in his hands and was kissing him like he hadn’t been kissed in a long time, frantic and hungry.

Fine by House.

They left a trail of semi-formal clothing from the couch to his bed, as fast as they could with House’s limp. He had a moment to think about how rare it was these days that he brought someone home without having to pay them before John pulled his head back with his hair and sucked on his neck. He stroked the skin he could reach, and had enough time to think about how John was in better shape than he was before John pulled back again.

“What are we doing?”

“Changing your mind already?” Better not, unless you plan on taking care of _my_ erection at least before you leave.

“No. I mean logistics. We can’t both top or bottom. At least, not at the same time. Personally I’d prefer to top, but if you aren’t into bottoming...” John stroked himself as he watched House.

“Good, because I’d rather take it tonight.” He wanted those sharp eyes looking down into his.

“We make a good team.”

“Hold off on the praise until we’re both covered in semen and can’t move.”

John’s eyes widened then narrowed sexily. “Big plans?”

“Always. I always make it a point to work as hard as I can.” Except in the clinic.

“That’s what I like to hear.”

And from then on it was hot, sweaty sex, attention paid to each other’s bodies in that wonderfully exploratory way only afforded to total strangers. House started on his left side to keep pressure off his right leg, John kneeling behind him, then they spooned, and finally House was on his stomach, face pressed into the pillow as John leaned his weight over him, dominating him, fucking him hard, and his leg would probably hurt tomorrow but he didn’t care.

He didn’t care about anything as long as John fucked him, and then once he came all he cared about was flipping onto his back and coming himself.

After he did, and John tossed the condom, John leaned on one elbow and watched as House rubbed some of his come into his skin. Some guys found that hot, but John seemed merely curious, not turned on. He took that as a cue to shower. He got up carefully, a little sore, and limped towards his bathroom.

“I’ll guess I’ll go home then.” Was that hurt in John’s voice? He wasn’t sure.

“You can stay. I just want to get cleaned up. And once I’m done I don’t like to share.”

“At least toss me a washcloth?”

House did, and he even wet it first.

After his shower, which was mostly to work the kinks out of his leg before sleep, he lay back down next to John, who had already fallen asleep. He didn’t seem to be a cuddler, and neither was House, so sharing his bed was somewhat moot, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t nice.

He slipped into sleep quickly, replaying highlights of the night in his mind, slight smile on his face.

~*~

He woke when his alarm went off to an empty bed, and upon further inspection, an empty apartment. There was, however, a note on his fridge that hadn’t been there the night before.

_House, sorry to run. Work calls. Actually, Linda. She needs watching over before she sells my practice for Oreos or something. Anyway, we need to do that again._ Underneath was an email address, phone number, and street address. He wondered if it was John’s house or office. Didn’t matter. He wasn’t going into New York any time soon.

Then again, there was another lecture series next month at NYU. A weekend event. He might need somewhere to stay.

He made breakfast and listened to the messages on his answering machine; he hadn’t been wrong when he’d guessed they’d be from Wilson and Cameron. Wilson seemed to have an angry Cuddy beside him, while Cameron had a sarcastic Foreman by her side.

He wondered if John had anyone to answer to, and decided that if anyone, it would be that Margaret woman. He mused a while longer, then dressed and left for work.

~*~

“Has he been walking funnier than normal today?”

“Chase! He has a disability.”

“Yeah, I know, but it looks like he’s limping the other way.”

“Wouldn’t he just even out then?” Foreman, always the voice of reason. “He certainly seems to be in a good mood. Especially for a night after a lecture series.”

Chase’s voice was strained as he looked through a microscope. “Maybe he got laid.”

Foreman scoffed, “By who?”

Cameron’s indignant voice rang out, “Maybe we shouldn’t talk about his private life. He could walk in any minute.”

Or, he could be standing outside the very much _not_ sound-proofed doors of the lab.

Funny thing was, he _was_ walking funny. John got him good. Part of him really wished to return the favor.

He walked away as Chase went into a list of who House could have slept with. He almost stayed to listen, but then decided that since he didn’t care what Chase thought pretty much ever, he didn’t care who Chase thought might sleep with him.

Instead he went to his office to email John and tell him about the clinic patient he had earlier that day who couldn’t understand why he was so tired lately. Apparently the NyQuil he was taking wasn’t assumed to be the culprit.

He smiled as he typed; it felt good to make a new friend.

And it felt even better to have sex with him.  


**Author's Note:**

> I've been meaning to post this here for ages and never got around to it. Unedited since originally posted, but it could probably use it. Just something fun that could probably be done better justice by someone else.


End file.
